


Harvest Festival

by the_gramophone



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Farm/Ranch, Alternate Universe - Small Town, Autumn, First Dates, Fluff, M/M, Misunderstandings, POV Jack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-07-29 09:51:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16261760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_gramophone/pseuds/the_gramophone
Summary: Jack's deliveries at The Haus Inn and Restaurant are the highlight of his day - in no small part due to the head chef. If only they could get past this awkwardness that's come between them recently.





	Harvest Festival

**Author's Note:**

> This originally came from an idea I got while watching an episode of Gilmore Girls (1.12, "Double Date"). However, I quickly veered off the original plot so I didn't feel right tagging it. But if it's not obvious, the town they live in is heavily based off the fictional town of Stars Hollow. 
> 
> Really, this whole thing is borne from the fact that I love fall and wanted to write a little homage to the magical feeling that comes with it, when you feel like anything can happen. I know spring is the season of "new beginnings" but I always feel that way more in the fall. 
> 
> Not beta-ed, so I apologize for any mistakes or typos. Enjoy :)

Jack stood at the bed of his truck, gripping the edge of the wooden crate, and took a deep breath.  


_You can do this,_ he said to himself. _This is not a big deal. Just another delivery._  


He nodded to himself and grabbed the crate, adding it to the stack on the dolly, and began to wheel it from the parking lot towards the building.  


The Haus Inn and Restaurant had been operating in the small town of Samwell, Massachusetts, since its early days as a carriage stop in the 1840s. Over the years the structure had been added to and refurbished until it appeared as it did now, a beautiful three-story building with a wrap-around porch and balcony, overlooking the town from where it stood on a hill, near what was once the town boundaries.  


It was normally Jack’s favorite place in town. He loved how peaceful it felt, even when it was filled with guests and parties and staff. He felt like he was a part of his town’s history, helping to keep its longest-running business afloat. But the past few days, the sight of its white columns filled him with nothing but dread.  


The smell of cinnamon and apple met him as soon as he opened the delivery door to the kitchens. He couldn’t help but smile, even as the knot in his stomach grew. It was one of his favorite smells in the world.  


“Hello?” he said as he pushed the cart in the door. “I have your delivery!”  


He heard the crash of something hitting the floor from behind one of the shelves, and a soft curse.  


“Jack! Hi!” Bitty rushed around the corner, wiping his hands on a dish towel.  


“Uh, hi,” Jack said. “Is everything okay back there?”  


“Hm?” Bitty looked back in the direction that he came from and nodded quickly. “Yeah. Yep. Nothing to worry about. Just a little jar spill, but nothing that I was that fond of, or that can’t be cleaned, so …”  


Bitty trailed off, looking uncertain.  


“I have your order,” Jack said finally, gesturing to the crates. “I can unload the crates if you tell me where to put them?”  


“Oh! Yes, thank you,” Bitty said, and grabbed the clipboard to sign. “They can just go in the corner, I’ll have some of the boys help me get everything sorted.”  


“Right.”  


Jack quickly got to work unloading the crates, sorting them by what would need to be refrigerated. Bitty stood by the counter, frowning at a spatula as he spun it back and forth.  


“Lot of sweet potatoes this week,” Jack said.  


“Oh,” Bitty chuckled. “We’re having a big event tomorrow night. This sweet old couple is celebrating their fiftieth wedding, and they had six or seven kids, so of course all of them had tons of kids, and. Well. I’ll be up to my ears in sweet potato pie.”  


“That sounds nice,” Jack cleared his throat. “Fifty years is a long time.”  


Bitty’s face dropped ever so slightly, and Jack could have kicked himself. He shouldn’t have said that; they were almost having a normal conversation and he had to go and ruin it, like an idiot.  


“I should have my first batch of cranberries by next week,” he blurted out. “If you’re interested.”  


“Well, that would be – I love cranberries. I’ll have to pull out my recipe book, find some good fall desserts to work into next week’s menu.”  


“Okay, sounds good.” Jack gripped his dolly. “I’ll see you next week then?”  


“Yeah,” Bitty said. “Same time, same place?” He gave Jack a weak looking smile. Jack felt it like a kick to the gut, when he thought of how beautiful and open Bitty’s smiles normally were. Now he could barely manage to be polite.  


He started to wheel backwards towards the door when a voice stopped him.  


“I’ll see you then, too, Jack!”  


Jack whipped his head around. How long had Lardo been standing at the coffee machine? He hadn’t even noticed her.  


~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  


Jack woke the next day before sunrise, slipping into his work jeans and a flannel button-up before heading out to begin checking on his plants.  


The sun had just begun to creep across the sky, shooting pink and orange streaks against the trees, when he heard a car pulling into his gravel driveway. Jack paused for a moment, then kept working. There was only one person it could be.  


“Jack! You beautiful motherfucker, where are you?” Shitty came around the corner of the house and headed straight for him, carrying two cups of coffee.  


“You’re very awake for this time of day,” Jack said once he reached him, taking the coffee cup Shitty handed him. “I thought you said being awake before dawn was a crime against nature, unless –"  


“Unless you’ve been up all night, yes, I know,” Shitty said, and flopped onto the ground next to where Jack was crouching. “Only the most dire of circumstances would bring me to this, I can fucking promise you that.”  


Jack snorted, and went back to cutting the vine of the pumpkin he was harvesting.  


“Do you think you could stop caressing your plants for a minute and listen to me?”  


“I have a delivery to get to in an hour, and they need ten pumpkins,” Jack said. “Why don’t I keep working, and you say what it is you’re here to say?”  


Shitty huffed and took a large sip of his coffee. “I was talking to Lardo -"  


“I knew it,” Jack muttered. Shitty threw a small stick at him and continued.  


“ – and bro, what in the fucking hell is happening with you and Bits? She said it was one of the most awkward things she had ever seen.”  


“How long was she there?” Jack asked.  


“The whole time, dude,” Shitty said. “Did you even notice? Or were you too laser-focused on Bitty to notice? Because I know he is a beautiful masterpiece of Southern manners and fine cooking, but it sounds like you were both a hot mess.”  


Jack sighed and set down his knife. He should have known he couldn’t have kept this from Shitty forever. Honestly, if he hadn’t been so caught up in the sex trafficking case he had just finished, Jack doubted he would have been able to keep this to himself this long.  


“Bitty asked me out a few weeks ago,” he admitted.  


Shitty broke out into a shit-eating grin and leaped up to hug Jack, spilling his coffee everywhere. “No fucking way! I cannot believe you kept this from me, you suave motherfucker! You two are going to have the most beautiful family, and I am going to spoil the shit out of your kids or dogs or whatever you choose – you just deserve so much happiness, and I love you so much…”  


Jack gently pushed Shitty away from him before Shitty started crying. “It’s not what you think.”  


Shitty narrowed his eyes. “What I think is that a gorgeous man you’re more than a little in love with asked you on a date.”  


“Not exactly,” Jack sighed. “He asked if I’d like to go out sometime and maybe grab a bite to eat.”  


“And?”  


“And I said yes, and nothing else has ever happened!” Jack said. “I go there twice a week with my deliveries and we make incredibly awkward small talk and I leave and that’s it.”  


“He never made specific plans?”  


“No,” Jack said. He shrugged and looked down. “He obviously changed his mind. It’s fine. It happens.”  


“I don’t buy it,” Shitty said.  


“What?”  


“You!” Shitty hopped up and began to pace.  


“Careful of the vines!” Jack barked. Shitty quickly sat down again.  


“You’re just going to give up? Just like that?” Shitty asked. “Have you ever asked Bitty about it?”  


Jack shook his head. “I thought about it, but then I thought, if he’s trying to take it back, what if he says yes just because he feels guilty? I don’t want him to go on a pity date with me.”  


“It’s not going to be a fucking pity date, because he is the one who asked you out first,” Shitty said. He picked up his coffee and took a sip, grimacing when he realized it was empty. Shitty lunged for Jack’s but he held it out of the way, and Shitty fell headfirst into his lap. Shitty pushed himself back up and continued as if nothing had happened. “Look, if you want to move on and put this behind you, I am with you, man. You know that whatever you need, I’ll be there. But I think you should try. You care about Bitty, and you are so fucking close to being happy with him! What if he’s scared, thinking that you’ve changed your mind, since you haven’t brought it up?”  


Could it be possible? Bitty always seemed so strong, so fearless. He had moved away from everyone he knew to take a job straight out of culinary school in a strange town. He was bright and energetic and unapologetically himself. How could Jack make him nervous, when he was so boring?  


But maybe there was something to what Shitty was saying. He had known Bitty for just over two years now, and had spent at least half of that pining for him. He’d hate to give up if there was a chance.  


“I’ll think about it,” he said, and pushed himself to his feet. “Now since you’re here, you can help me load my truck.”  


~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  


Jack had a plan. He could do this. Even if it felt a little bit like he was going to be sick.  


He had made all his deliveries for the day, and swung by Jerry’s, the diner in town. Their food wasn’t quite on Bitty’s level, in his opinion, but he doubted anything was. Besides, he knew Bitty had a fondness for their donuts.  


The Haus was a madhouse when he arrived. It was the end of lunch, so he hung back and watched Bitty sweep around the kitchen, checking on his sous chefs, tasting and making minor adjustments before moving on. It was almost like a dance, Jack thought, as he watched Bitty dart over to a pot, sprinkle something in, and dash away.  


“He’s a force to be reckoned with, isn’t he?”  


Jack looked down to see Lardo grinning up at him. “Isn’t there some work you should be doing?”  


She elbowed him in the side. “Please. Once the last table is served Bitty feeds us. Like hell am I missing that.”  


Jack nodded as he rubbed his side – Lardo’s elbows were pointy and ruthless. “I thought he would’ve been done by now, actually.”  


“A group came in at the last minute, demanding to be seated.” Lardo rolled her eyes. “They’re annual guests and they spend a lot of money so apparently manners and common sense go out the window. But it looks like he’s almost done.”  


Bitty was at that moment carefully plating a dish and handing it off to one of the waiters. “Now, don’t feel like you need to push dessert too hard, you hear?” he said as the waiter picked up the tray. “It’ll be practically dinner by the time they finish eating anyway.”  


Several of the employees laughed and Jack abruptly felt like he was out of place. What was he doing here? He was intruding on Bitty’s place of work; it was a huge mistake. Luckily Bitty hadn’t seen him yet so he could probably sneak out…  


Lardo cleared her throat loudly. Bitty’s head snapped over. “Jack!” He smiled and came over. “What are you doing here? Lord, don’t tell me there’s a problem with the cranberries. I have gotten so excited about this cranberry tart I’m planning, and it would just break my heart.”  


“I’m going to get some soup,” Lardo announced. Once she was behind Bitty she shot Jack a thumbs-up and winked broadly.  


_Crisse._ She and Shitty spent too much time together.  


“Uh, no,” Jack said. “I mean, the cranberries are fine. They’re looking really good, actually. I bet those tarts will be amazing.”  


Bitty’s cheeks pinked. “Why, thank you, Mr. Zimmermann.” He paused, as if waiting for something, and Jack realized he still hadn’t said why he was here.  


“I, uh, was at Jerry’s and I thought you might like this.” He shoved the bag and the cup of coffee at Bitty.  


Bitty’s mouth dropped open and his cheeks darkened. Jack forcibly dragged his thoughts away from wondering how that blush might spread over the rest of Bitty’s body.  


“My favorite!” Bitty said, sounding pleased as he pulled a donut out of the bag. “What flavor was it today?”  


Jack smiled. Jerry’s was known for their daily donut specials. They had regular favorites, but they also mixed it up with new flavors based on the season. “Pumpkin cinnamon. I thought since you like those pumpkin spice thingies from Starbucks, eh?”  


“It is a pumpkin spice latte, which you know,” Bitty said. He took a bite, followed by a swig of coffee, and groaned. “The perfect combination. Did you get one?”  


“Eh,” Jack shrugged. “I thought I’d wait and see how the reviews were.”  


“Two thumbs up from me,” Bitty said seriously.  


There was a pause. He could leave it at that – say that he had been in the neighborhood and wanted to drop that off, and then leave. Bitty wouldn’t know any better. But if he wanted to do this, now was his moment. He just had to open his mouth and say something.  


“Okay,” Bitty said slowly. “Well, I guess I better get back to work. It was awful sweet of you to bring this by for me.”  


“Wait!” Jack blurted out. Bitty turned back. “Uh, well, I was wondering. Do you have to work the Haus Booth at the Harvest Festival?”  


The Samwell Harvest Festival was a tradition dating back to the town’s founding. Every year the town’s local businesses gathered in the town square and offered food and games. It was Jack’s favorite part of fall.  


“Well, no, actually,” Bitty said. “Perks of being the boss! I make the food, but I don’t have to be the one at the booth.”  


“I was, uh wondering,” Jack stuck his hands in his jacket pocket to keep himself from twisting them, “if you would like to go with me?”  


“Oh!”  


“You don’t have to, obviously – I know it’s a little last minute, so if you already have plans –"  


“No, Jack,” Bitty interrupted. He was smiling widely. “I would love to go with you. That sounds like a lot of fun.”  


“Okay.” Jack took a breath. “As a date?”  


Bitty’s smile grew even bigger, if that was possible. “Yes, sweetie. As a date.”  


~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  


Jack tapped nervously on the steering wheel as he drove into town. The past day had been like torture for him. He had called Shitty four times to go over what happened and what he should wear and if he thought Bitty would change his mind. Sleep last night had been nearly impossible, which was unfortunate, because he still had to wake up early to do some basic work on the farm.  


When Shitty stopped by around lunch, he couldn’t believe it. “I respect the shit out of your work ethic, brah. But did you have to wake up at the crack of fucking dawn on a Saturday?”  


“My chickens don’t care what day of the week it is, Shits,” Jack had replied. “They’re pretty insistent on being fed every day. Besides, I’m going to try to take a nap in a bit.”  


Shitty had then insisted on going through Jack’s closet until he found some clothes that he said didn’t make Jack look like he was about to go on a crime spree. It had been exhausting, but Jack missed Shitty’s presence once he left to meet Lardo and he was once again alone with his thoughts.  


After an hour of laying ineffectually on his bed trying to sleep, Jack finally gave up and got dressed in the clothes Shitty picked out. They weren’t exciting, but they were the nicest things he owned – a dark pair of jeans without mud or holes, and a navy button-down. He threw on his nicer jacket and hoped Bitty wouldn’t be too put off by bags under his eyes.  


Jack pulled up outside of Bitty’s house, a quaint bungalow cottage near the center of town. He had only been here once or twice, but it always made him smile to see how much of Bitty’s personality was there. There was a large front porch with a swing and some rocking chairs and flowers and potted herbs everywhere. A cheerful pride flag flew from the flag pole. Jack noticed that Bitty had already placed out several pumpkins on the porch, although they weren’t carved quite yet.  


Bitty opened the door gratifyingly quickly after Jack knocked. “Jack! Hi! I’m almost ready, I just need to find my goshdarn scarf.”  


Jack smiled. “It’s alright. It’s not supposed to be that cold, though.”  


“Jack Zimmermann! It is going to be in the 40’s! I’m not looking to freeze to death, thank you very much!” Bitty huffed as he threw a scarf around his neck.  


Jack smiled. “One day you are going to have to adjust to Northern temperatures, eh?”  


“Not likely.” Bitty stepped outside and locked his door behind him. The porchlight shone behind him, making his hair shine like a halo. Jack felt like he could barely breathe looking at him. Bitty wore a sinfully tight pair of black jeans with knee-high boots and a red plaid button-up. He was like every one of Jack’s dreams come to life.  


“Um, I can drive, if you want?”  


“Oh, don’t be silly!” Bitty said. “I don’t live too far from the square, and we’re not too likely to find parking much closer. Why don’t we walk?”  


“Right.” Jack hoped the fading evening light would hide his blush from Bitty. He felt like he was always saying something stupid in front of him.  


They walked in silence for a few moments down the street. All around them, townspeople streamed in the same direction – families shepherding tiny children, teenagers chasing each other and shrieking with laughter, couples walking their dogs and holding hands.  


“I love events like this,” Bitty said. “Everyone coming together to celebrate, the whole town contributing – it reminds me of back home.”  


“Do you miss it?” Jack asked.  


Bitty shrugged once, and looked away. “Sometimes. I think the longer I’m away, the more I think about the good parts of living in the South. But there were a lot of other things too, at least where I was from. The bigotry, the small-mindedness, the hatred of anyone different from you.” He laughed once, the sound short and bitter. “Even if the difference was something small, like not givin’ a hoot about football. That’s like a criminal offense down there.”  


Jack contemplated the pensive, sad look on Bitty’s face. “I never saw the point of football,” he said eventually. “We were a hockey family.”  


Bitty laughed and nudged Jack’s shoulder with his. “Really,” he teased. “You know, I never would’ve guessed, how someone like you could get into hockey.”  


“Oh. You, uh, you know about my dad?”  


“Oh, Lord,” Bitty rolled his eyes, “my Mama had such a crush on Bad Bob Zimmermann back in the day. I can’t tell you how happy my dad was when your dad retired. Except then next season he was back, commentating, and she still insisted on watching while she baked!” He laughed again, the sound making Jack’s stomach feel warm. “It drives Coach insane,” he added fondly.  


“You never mentioned,” Jack said. “That you knew.”  


They had reached the edge of the town square. There were garlands and twinkle lights wrapped around the lamp poles, and hay bales with pumpkins and gourds scattered throughout. Scarecrows stood near the entrance, holding signs that welcomed guests and pointed which way to go for different activities. There was a station near the center where you could carve a pumpkin, and Jack could see Lardo painting kids’ faces nearby. Everywhere they looked there was food – apple cider donuts, pumpkin scones, cinnamon rolls, chili, pulled pork, hot chocolate.  


“Do you mind if we stop by the Haus booth?” Bitty asked. “I want to check on how things are doing.” Jack nodded, and they turned to where the Haus had set up a large booth near a ring toss game. “I always knew,” Bitty said. Jack startled. He thought Bitty had forgotten his question. “I used to play hockey in high school; I wasn’t great with checking, but it was just a club team. We had a lot of fun though. I thought about following it to college, but then I went to culinary school instead.”  


“Why didn’t you say anything?” Jack asked. “Everyone else…”  


“Well, I figured it wasn’t any of my business, and if you wanted me to know you would bring it up yourself.” He grinned ruefully. “I forgot, back there, that we had never talked about it. But never let it be said that I let anything get in the way of a good chirp.”  


“Chirp,” Jack repeated, and widened his eyes with fake incredulity. “You really did play hockey, eh?”  


Bitty pushed against him again. “Oh, hush, you! Now hurry up and I’ll get us something to eat.”  


Jack grabbed Bitty’s hand before he pulled away, wrapping it in his. Bitty glanced down, his face unreadable. “Is this okay?”  


“More than,” Bitty looked up again and smiled. Jack felt like his heart skipped a beat. He couldn’t imagine anything in the world more beautiful than Eric’s face in that moment.  


They stopped by the Haus booth, and Eric checked in with his two workers manning the booth before getting them both some chili and mini apple pies.  


(“Everything’s going fine,” Dex said, shooting a glare at the stand next to them, “except the asshole working the ring toss keeps throwing things at us.”  


“It’s an accident!” Chowder protested.  


“So he says,” Dex said darkly. “He’s not even playing. How does he keep getting them over here?”)  


Jack led Bitty to a bench over to the side where they could sit and eat. “I don’t know if I’ve ever told you this,” he said. “But you make the best food I’ve ever had.”  


“You’ve never told me that!” Bitty said. “You never stay for staff meals at the Haus when I ask.”  


Jack shrugged. “Eh, I didn’t want to feel like I was intruding. I’m not a member of the staff.”  


“That’s just plain silly,” Bitty said firmly. “You are crucial to the Haus. We couldn’t do anything without you. And to prove it, later we will have to go back to the booth and get a slice of my zucchini bread. It’s won awards, you know, and you supplied those zucchinis.”  


“You can get vegetables anywhere,” Jack said.  


“Not like yours,” Bitty said. “You really care about what you do, and it shows. Plus you’ve never been late with an order, and you keep me informed with when things will start coming in so I can plan ahead. I feel like I would be lost without you.”  


“I feel that way too.” The words slipped out without Jack even thinking about them. “Only, you know, not because of work. I mean, I look forward to seeing you. But … you know.” Jack was sure that he looked like an idiot after that word vomit, but when he snuck a look over at Bitty, he was beaming.  


“It’s funny,” Bitty said. “We only barely got here and I’m already having the best time.”  


Jack couldn’t agree more.  


~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  


They walked around more. Jack told Bitty about how he inherited the farm from a great-aunt on his mother’s side, not long after he decided he didn’t want to play hockey professionally and was feeling lost. Bitty shared stories of ice skating competitions in Georgia and how he had to quit eventually due to his coach retiring.  


“My parents offered to help me look for a new coach,” he said, “but the bullying was so bad by that time, I felt like my heart wasn’t in it anymore.”  


They visited with Lardo as she painted a little girl’s face to look like a zombie unicorn, and Shitty, who was working the dunk tank. Jack knocked him into the water on the first try.  


“It’s probably too cold for a dunk tank,” Jack told Bitty, “but Shitty really wanted to do one. And he’s donating the proceeds from it to the local domestic abuse shelter so I’m happy to dunk him as much as possible.”  


Bitty insisted on taking the next turn and sent Shitty flying into the water. Shitty emerged from the water, sputtering and plucking at the shirt clinging to his chest. “Bitty, you fucking beaut! That was magnificent! If I was allowed out of here I would wrap you in my arms.”  


“That’s okay, Shits,” Bitty said. “Maybe when you’ve dried off.”  


Shitty scowled. “I’d dry off faster if I could take off this damn shirt, but apparently it would be inappropriate.”  


“Much like the language?” Jack said drily. Next to them a pair of twin preschool girls started chanting “Damn! Damn! Damn!”  


Eventually the festival began winding down for the night. “Do you want to get some hot chocolate before we go?” Jack asked. “Jerry’s has some good stuff. It’s not from a bag or anything.” He carefully didn’t think about the box of Swiss Miss tucked in the back of his pantry for when he wanted to treat himself. He didn’t think Bitty would approve.  


“Ooh, let’s go!” Bitty said eagerly. “I’ve been trying to perfect my recipe for ages now. I’ve read that the key is to add a dash of nutmeg, but I find that it isn’t quite right somehow.” He continued in this vein on their way to the booth. Jack had nothing to contribute, but he enjoyed listening to Bitty discuss different recipes he had tried, and the advice his aunt back home had given him.  


“And then she said that the reason it never comes out right is because you shouldn’t add marshmallows. Can you believe it? No marshmallows in your hot cocoa! I thought my mama was gonna lose her mind when she said that.” Bitty stopped suddenly. “I’m sorry, this must be boring.”  


“No,” Jack said. “I like listening to you.” He wanted to say more, to explain to Bitty how his words could wash over Jack like a soft blanket, and make him feel safe and warm, and how just being with him made Jack happier than anything he had ever known. He didn’t know how to say anything like that without scaring Bitty, though, so he left it at that.  


Something must have shown on his face, though. Bitty’s face softened. “Oh.” He grabbed Jack’s hand, and interlocked their fingers. “Let’s get some hot chocolate, hm?”  


It was almost midnight by the time they had made their way back to Bitty’s house. It was hours later than Jack normally stayed up, but he didn’t feel tired. The crisp night air felt alive with promise. Anything seemed possible as long as their hands remained intertwined and Bitty kept sneaking those looks at him out of the corner of his eye.  


“Well,” Bitty said as they stood in front of his door. “I guess this is me.”  


“I had a lot of fun,” Jack said. He felt almost intoxicated with how close Bitty was standing, the porch light glinting off his hair, the gentle rocking motion Bitty seemed to be doing unconsciously as he fiddled with his keys.  


“Me too.” Bitty smiled sweetly, then took a step back and inserted his key into the lock on his door. Jack tugged on his hand to pull him back. “Jack?”  


“ _Crisse,_ Bitty,” Jack murmured, and cupped Bitty’s face between his hands.  


His lips were soft, and a little cold from the night air. Bitty sighed and opened his mouth slightly, allowing Jack to dart his tongue in and trace the outline of his lips, memorizing the shape of it. He tasted like pumpkin and chocolate, and something else that Jack couldn’t define but made him feel safe and settled, like he was finally coming home at the end of a very long day.  


Bitty finally pulled away. “Well.” He took a step back and ran a slightly shaking hand through his hair. He took another step back, and Jack felt his stomach drop. Had he done something wrong? He should have asked first. He had been too forward, and Shitty was going to lecture him about understanding boundaries.  


Bitty had unlocked his front door while Jack panicked and stood in the doorway. “Well? Aren’t you gonna come in for a cup of coffee?”  


Jack didn’t even need to think about it before he stepped through.  


“You know I didn’t really mean coffee, right,” Bitty started to say before Jack pushed him against the closed door and covered his mouth with his.  


He was finally home.


End file.
